Normal Addiction Poem by Heather Reid

I grieve for the me that has gone.
The ONE.
The one I used to be before the Prince on his horse
galloped up to my gate and gave me some pills. They were great.
I look into my dark corners when I find the spare time and find different aspects of why and who I am.
The me bits that the pills chase out.
Without them, do I have any clout?
I grieve for the forced future I faced.
A force within a force without reason,
a force that was wild and self pleasing,
Now forced to think differently, meds see to that.
Do they work or prevent? Am I calm or Hell bent?
My thoughts never last so I have no past, cast or faith,
The force it is strong and I think it's just daft as I pour medications out into my palm. After all where's the harm?
So well what the hell!

Is the self that needs fixing really that broke or just missing a stroke? It works but works different.
Could that be why I scream at the sky in the dark in the night and during the day,
At work and at play?
I have many dark corners.
I am not all I appear, but more than I seem and some of my life is mapped out in a dream.
Seeking sanity seems only the stuff of dreams, unattainable unreal,
Always a hitch a hiccup a hike to the one who is normal,
please Prince get it right!
With your dopamine disturbing yellows and whites. Do they make it all right?
In antipsychotic lands I walk in the name of the sane but I think it's a shame.
That the ONE is long gone.